


Stop

by WhereIBelong



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alcohol, Anger, Angst, Cigarettes, Davey - Freeform, Depression, M/M, Male/Male, Matt - Freeform, Sad, Smoking, Social Anxiety, Teenagers, Threesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-07 12:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhereIBelong/pseuds/WhereIBelong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt, a slightly abnormal teenage kid, gets caught up in a relationship with his classmates, Dave and Chris. His friends abandon him when they realize what influence his new buddies have on him; little do they know that Davey and Chris are trying to get him to stop what they seemed to have started.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

    Matt sat up in the wide four-poster bed, sweat still drying on his body. The two boys, sprawled out among the sheets behind him, turned over but continued snoozing. He glanced back at them, his childhood friend and a kid who had a crush on him. He'd never have guessed he would end up in a bed with the two of them.

    Davey Jillard, one hand cupping the other's cheek, mumbled in his sleep. His hair was a pale blonde, skin flawless save the dark jewel by his eyebrow. His baby blue eyes were hidden by a veil of exhaustion, the flush fading from his pale face. Matt fingered the black loop around his lower lip. Davey had talked Matt, the easily persuaded and gullible friend, into getting piercings on their eighteenth birthdays. While Matt had been plauged by infections and negative comments, Davey stayed germ-free and perfect. Davey's old high school friend, Chris Savoy had one arm thrown over Davey's chest, and his other had held Matt in a strangling grip before he'd shifted away. Chris was Davey's opposite - tanned skin, dark hair streaked with blonde where he'd attempted to bleach it in the sun, dark brown eyes, and the only piercings in his ears. He was a year older than the other two, in his first year of college. Davey had introduced them, the nervous childhood friend to the confident, smooth college boy. Matt was ninety percent sure that Chris had talked Dave into their current arrangement, and this was their third 'meeting' at Chris's small apartment. 

    Wiping a bit of someone else's spunk off his wrist, Matt stood, legs shaking as he searched in the dark for his underwear. Previous times, Matt had lingered long enough to wake one of them up and let them know he was leaving, but both times had prompted questions and lavicious comments, almost getting him dragged back into bed. He had learned his lesson and now slipped into the bathroom, using the sink to splash icy water on his heated skin. He cleaned as best he could, then recovered the rest of his clothes (spread out around the apartment in a telling trail), dressed, and grabbed his backpack. Chris had ambushed the two of them after leaving school, pulling up in his Mustang and revving the engine to impress the other kids on their way home from the small-city high school, so all of Matt's school books and papers were crammed into his beat up black bag still. Snagging an entire pack of Chris's cigarettes and slipping his own Zippo into his jean pocket, he snuck out and down the stairs.

    It was almost four in the morning on a crisp spring Saturday and the lights to the apartments and houses were out. The sun was still an hour and a half from rising as Matt's sneakers hit the concrete. One car passed him, God only knew where it was from, and he ducked his head, determined not to let anyone recognize him. He made his way down the street, headed for the abandoned playground. The playground had been an epicenter of kid's activity at all hours not three months ago, but a recent rebuilding and transfer of property by the city had torn most of it up. The grass toddlers and dogs had tumbled on was all dead, choked by the towering buildings and car exhaust. Half the jungle gym had been torn apart and now served as a drug seller's center. Matt slumped into one of the rusted swings, glancing up when the skeletal structure moaned under his slight weight.

    The ground was littered with cigarette butts and the ends of blunts, some glass bottles half buried in sawdust. Matt took out the pack of cigarettes and lit one, inhaling. He was still new to smoking, and the smoke burned his lungs and left a sour taste in his mouth. His first drag was long, and his head began to spin. He knew enough to be careful of getting sick, as his first adventure had ended with him bent over a port-a-potty with smoke swirling around him. His head hit the chains of the swing and he sighed, coughing. Normal guys in sexual relationships normally stuck around after fucking, or so he thought. He had messed around with Davey before, but they had both agreed that they weren't really compatible. They had stuck as friends, oddly enough. Davey had gone through boyfriends faster than Matt had been able to count, but Matt...

    He remembered coming into school one day after Chris's first 'playdate', so he called them. Davey, nervous, had accosted him, asking if he hurt something or if he was okay. The experience had been fine, amazing, even, but afterward, Matt had all but run out when Chris beckoned him in for seconds. Matt said nothing was the matter, and Davey had dropped it. Matt had done what he did this morning : run out of the apartment and to a secluded area, stealing Chris's cigarettes or alcohol. 

    Davey may have been fine with spending hours moaning and sweating with two friends, recieving as much as he could take and giving everything he had, and Matt almost was okay. It was after the lust had worn down, when they calmed and cuddled or slept. Matt knew the other two had seen him with private expressions, making noises that he never would dream he could make, weak and covered in sweat, spit and cum. Chris prided in it, lazing around after and audibly complimenting them. Davey took his compliments and returned with his own, naturally as making conversation. Matt would grow uneasy and shaky, as he did in normal conversations, making him sound unsatisfied or fishing for admiration. The intimacy was something Matt was unaccustomed to and he found that in the context, he couldn't handle it. The first night, Chris had thought Matt had caught a cold; he had been shaking and sweating, close to tears. Matt didn't cry, especially not in public, and this had unnerved him greatly.

    He dug through his back, cigarette dangling between his fingers and showering the ground with ash, and produced his cell. He had six missed calls, two from his other best friend Sirella, three from Bridgette, and one from her boyfriend, Garrett. Matt sniffed and called Sirella, praying she would be awake.

     "...M-m?" she mumbled, sounding dead. Matt bit his lip ring and almost hung up.

    "Sir?" he asked carefully, ready to disengage if she was cranky.

     There was some rustling and a grunt, muffled and far away. "Hang on." he heard limbs cracking and a person asking a question, which was silenced as Sirella covered the phone's mouthpiece. Matt took a drag and waited, swinging gently. "Matt?" she came back on.

    "Yeah, its me." Matt stared at the burning embers, eyes welling up. His lip quivered and he took a harsh sip on the cigarette, coughing when it burned his throat.

    "Where are you?" she asked fuzzily. "Are you okay? What's going on?"

    "I'm..." he paused, trying to get his voice to stop shaking. "I'm near Chris's apartment." There was a pregnant silence and Matt ducked his head, pinching the cigarette hard enough to bend it.

    "Are you okay?" Sirella asked quietly. Her voice was clearer, grave.

    "I'm fine," he murmured. "A little sore, but-" he chuckled, sounding half humor and half a sob.

    "If that idiot hurt you, even by accident, I'll wallop him into next week." she replied threateningly, coaxing another laugh/sob out of Matt.

    "He didn't hurt me, I just... I can't. I can't do it." Part of him wanted to shut up. Of course he could do it. It was amazing, being lavished by two guys that he was moderately familiar with. But he would be lying if he said he was comfortable with them. In fact, he was anything but. "I can't wake up next to them and... And talk, and be a normal guy. I can't do it." He inhaled smoke through trembling fingers. 

    "Then don't, you know Davey-" she cut off, concern dripping out of her voice. When she spoke again, her voice was dangerously low, angry and accusing. "Are you smoking right now?" Matt smiled frustratedly at the twisted, half-melted yellow slide before him. 

    "Sirella, look, I needed something to calm- Sirella? Sir? Hello?" A tiny click had interrupted him, and he looked disbelievingly at the phone's screen. It showed his background, a black square with the time in white. _She hung up on me, just like that,_ he thought. He threw his phone down with a grunt, the cigarette butt following. Out of spite, he pulled out another slender white stick and lit it, sniffling. He hung his head low and swung gently on the swing, body shaking. He had never felt so alone before.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> psst. Red is a normal eye color (its actually extremely rare, but shhh) so just go with it :)

Matt reached his house as the sun was rising, silhouetting the city skyline in a rush of orange and red. He almost ran into the tiny, sleek car pulling out of his own driveway, the driver laying on the horn. He gave a bitter wave at the car, seeing his father's wave in return.His dad never really asked why he returned home at six in the morning on weekends; He was always outside wandering around or at Davey's. The elder Andari had no idea about Matt's escapades and would never know unless Matt sat him down and, in very short, commonplace words, told him he was fucked by two men every weekend. Rather than delighting in his freedom, Matt felt abandoned, neglected, although there was always food in the fridge and electricity in the house. He dragged himself up the porch and into the house, yawning. He threw down his backpack and stumbled into his room. Once, the room had been decorating to half Matt's liking and half Davey's. Davey showerd him how to make his little kid's room look 'cool', with band posters and pictures of cars and mostly naked women. Now it was just strict business, plain brown-black furniture and gray walls. The carpet still held signs of alcohol stains (more of Davey's ideas) and a cigarette burn near the window. 

Matt collapsed on his bed, body aching. Chris's bed was much plushier, the blankets richer and softer. He punched his pillow into a comfortable shape and curled up, still in his smoke-scented jacket and loose jeans. He froze when he heard the cigarettes crinkle in his pocket, carefully rolling over to take them out. None were broken, and he sighed as he unloaded the other pocket of the lighter. Better safe than stupid. He dozed, staring at the sunrise through a curtain-less window, until his phone, in his backpack, began sounding off on the first floor. He groaned and crawled out of bed, almost falling down the stairs. He flipped it open without checking the caller I.D.. Few people ever called him, so his options came down to Sirella, Bridgette, Davey, or his father.

"Hey, Red." Matt cursed silently, waking fully up. Only Davey called him Red, after his eye color. 

"Hi," Matt replied cautiously, sitting on the floor. He wanted to go up and sleep, but he didn't think that was going to happen.

Davey cleared his throat, and Matt could hear Chris in the background, murmuring. "Where'd you go? You didn't wake us up." 

"I know," Matt said, thinking quickly. "I couldn't sleep, and my dad's been on my ass about getting home earlier. I had a whole list of weekend chores too. I didn't think you two would be letting me get any sleep." With every word, his guilt piled an inch higher. He was a good liar, but he had never had his father's penchant for dismissing his conscience. Davey was quiet for a moment.

"And here I thought your dad was chill." Davey's voice had gone from suspicious to airy within the silence, for which Matt was grateful. "I guess he's getting strict in his old age." Matt forced a laugh, the look on his face not unlike that of an about-to-puke expression. "You good? I know Chris was a little rough." Matt coughed, eyes darting as if there were people in the house to hear him. 

"I'm fine," Matt spluttered, fingering his chest where a scratch itched. Chris got a little vicious in the throes of pleasure. "Tired, but I didn't pull anything and I'm not bleeding." Matt listened as he relayed the message to Chris. Both were laughing when Davey came back on.

"Chris wants to know if you like having your ear sucked on," Davey chuckled. Chris's voice got louder.

"...If he wants me to pierce his dick too!" Matt jerked away from the phone, blushing.

"See you later, Dave." he muttered, hanging up. He hugged his body, shaking his head. As he sat, he wondered if Davey and Chris ever continued without him. He could imagine them going at it, although he himself was most often the center of their activity. His mind conjured up realistic images and he moaned, covering his eyes. It wasn't something he wanted to imagine first thing in the morning, especially with how he felt already. He found the thought of them romping without him almost sad, like two friends conspiring against him. He felt stupid and foolish for thinking that, but at the same time... He wondered who bottomed when he wasn't around. He wondered if they made the same faces he did, the same sounds. He wondered if he could ever get his mind to shut up when he told it to. Scoffing, he went to the kitchen and microwaved one of thirty frozen meals stored in the freezer. That was all Michael Andari brought home for him anymore; frozen food that would last forever, or just-add-water noodles that took four minutes to cook. Matt tossed his cheap phone over his shoulder and into the sink as he waited, forcing himself not to wince when it hit the steel. He didn't even want to think about contacting Sirella or Bridgette. It would be a nightmare, fighting through their disappointment and disgust at his new habits. Instead, he looked around the bare kitchen, reminding himself of all these friends right at home he could talk to. Laughing, Matt covered his face.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Matt showered, rubbing the faint scratch on his chest. He figured it would be gone within a day or two, but he didn't like it being there. He was unused to other people leaving marks on him; that was a big reason why he was hoping neither Davey nor Chris would suggest any bondage adventures. He knew, as their bottom-bottom, that he would end up as the one being tied and bound, and he didn't want any bruises or scrapes that he wouldn't have normal explanations for. As the current situation was more of an experiment in compatibility than anything else, any dramatic changes would send Matt running for the hills. Shaking water off his face, he shut the tap off and stepped out, sniffing in the steam. Already, he craved a cigarette, but he pushed the thought away and fell on his bed, wriggling into a shirt and boxers. 

As he lay there, he fingered the scratch. If the sex wasn't so good, it would have been easy to break off from the other two, even with Matt's naturally awkward social skills. Part of him longed for Chris to pull up and take them both back to his place, where it would be dark and warm and sweaty. He thought himself physically a normal male teenager and those kinds of temptations were hard enough to resist. It was when he woke up that he felt funny. He had slept next to Davey before, as kids and teens, but any time something happened between them, the same "wrong" feeling would return. It hadn't changed since hooking up with Chris, only the feeling was amplified. He figured it was some kind of childish 'purity' deal; he didn't love Chris or Dave sexually or romantically.  _Even so,_ he decided sleepily,  _I wouldn't have robbed Chris of his alcohol and all of his cigarettes just to throw the feeling off if it wasn't something more_. 

He dozed in and out of sleep, kept conscious by his spiralling thoughts. He awoke when the doorbell downstairs rang. He started as if someone had poked his side, and he rubbed his eyes, confused. Nobody rang the doorbell to his house; his father would just come in through the garage, as did his aunt and uncle, and Davey usually found some weird way to bust in. Neither Sirella nor Bridgette would come without calling, and the two of them were currently ignoring him. He remembered that with a pang as he tripped into a pair of jeans and scrambled down the stairs. He opened the door without checking the peephole, which he sourly regretted as the door swung open, letting in the warm sunlight. Chris stood there, fidgeting uncharacteristically. His hair caught the sun and glowed with an almost red light. He still had his car keys in one hand, dressed as he normally did in a brand name tee and faded jeans.

"Hi, Matt," he said, taking a breath. Matt all but gawked at him. He only ever visited when he knew Davey was nearby, but the blonde was nowhere in sight now. 

"Um, hey Chris," Matt replied slowly, leaning on the door frame and brushing hair out of his eye. He bit down on his lip ring, a habit that had risen around the time of getting introduced to Chris for the first time. "What's up? Dave's not here, I haven't talked to him since he was at your place." Chris scuffed his shoe on the concrete. 

"I know, I just dropped him off," Chris shook his head, frowning as if irritated by the mention of the blonde. "I came to see you, anyway. I guess I wanted to apologize for last night."

Matt frowned as well, pointedly not touching the cut on his chest. "I don't know what you're talking about, everything went fine yesterday." That was Matt's usual response to  _How did we do_ or  _Did you feel good_ questions. 'Fine' wasn't really a suitable answer, but it was the only one he could give without getting embarassed. 

"I got a little carried away," Chris scratched the back of his head, voice low. "I was pretty sure I hit you or something."

Matt smiled stiffly. "Nothing that I found, its all good," he lied, crossing his arms. This was a different creature before him; the prim and proper smooth guy was present, not the desperately hungry barely-adult being that Matt had come to know. If Davey had not convinced Matt, almost badgered and bullied him into it, that Chris was a cool guy, Matt would have wanted to avoid the guy with a ten foot pole. 

"Well, that's good." The brunette cleared his throat, putting one hand in his pocket. "I wanted to ask you something anyway." Matt nodded cautiously, praying it wasn't to try bondage. He almost laughed, imagining Chris dropping to one knee with a collar and wrist cuffs held out like a wedding ring. The humor seeped out of him as Chris spoke. "I want to know if you want to cut Dave out of the deal," he began, staring straight at Matt with a piercing seriousness. "I'm guessing Dave was the one who talked you into saying yes, but I knew Dave wasn't into the whole sex-friend bit in the first place." Matt's eyes widened fractionally. Sex friend? This 'deal' was new to him. "I've come to like you over the past few weeks, and instead of dragging Dave along like a dead horse, I wondered if you wanted to try just the two of us. Its getting hard to explain to my girl why I need two guys over to study for a class that neither of you even take."

Matt almost fell backwards. He felt like a punch had been delivered directly to his gut, bypassing skin and flesh. He had had no idea Chris had a girlfriend. Davey had told him, had sworn up and down that they were doing this because Chris liked Matt and wanted to get to know him further. This was the first that Matt had heard of this deal. He sucked in air through a throat that felt constricted, like that imagined collar had tightened around his neck. Chris didn't seem to notice Matt reeling back and kept on talking.

"Besides, Davey cares about you, and frankly, its getting weird," he went on, twirling his keys, all anxiety lost. "I mean, its one thing to have favorites, but he freaks out every time you leave early. I get it too, you don't wanna get attached. Dave's a funny guy and I wouldn't mind dropping him." He glanced up at Matt's pale, stunned face and backtracked slightly. "Um, if you still need him as support or whatever, I don't mind having a few more playdates with the two of you. Just, you know, let me know if you want to turn it into a two man deal." Matt's jaw clenched and his nails disappeared into his palms. He couldn't tell if he was enfuriated or just freaked out by how much of a dick Chris actually was. Chris waited politely for Matt to answer.

Matt's mouth moved a few times before he could think. "Get off my porch," he said quietly, sounding out of breath. He broke Chris's stare, clutching the door frame to keep from falling. Chris stepped forward, looking distantly concerned. Matt swung at him, missing by a few inches but causing Chris to stop and step away. "I said get out!" he yelled, eyes blazing. Chris's eyes went flat.

"What's your problem?" he cried, brandishing his keys almost threateningly. "You're even weirder than Dave, you know that?"

"Leave here and don't come near me again," Matt snapped hoarsely, teeth gritted. Chris scoffed and grinned scaldingly.

"Alright, you pure princess." the brunette sneered and spun on his heel, stomping down Matt's lawn. He slipped into his car and flipped Matt the bird from behind the wheel. Matt stared after him, eyes bugging out of his head. As soon as he could register thought, he grabbed his sneakers and bolted, leaving the door swinging wide after him. He ran down the street, ignoring a car horn that sounded behind him and dodging around an early afternoon jogger. His hair, highlighted from black to dark brown in the light, fluttered in his face, shoved to the side by a shaking hand. He ran, not noticing the stares of parents watching their kids play, of drivers trying to get down the road. For once, the eyes of other people did not bother him. He had his gaze set on the small house at the end of the development where Davey and the rest of the Jillards lived. Samantha Jillard had been like a second mother to him, and the thought of her seeing him like this before he could get his hands on Davey made him ill. He didn't want to think about Davey's baby brother, who looked up to the pair of them like they were gods. He just needed to get to Davey and demand the answers that Chris's annoucement had brought to life. 

He stopped by the mailbox outside the Jillard residence, hands on his knees and bent over. Matt wasn't in particularly good shape, though he was thin and scrawny for one who rarely worked out or did anything but go to school and sleep. As he caught his breath, he stared up at Davey's window, the third on the left. How many nights as a kid had he stood outside, gesturing for Davey to sneak down so they could mess around while the town slept? It pained him to think of that. Inhaling deeply and coughing his stamina back, he trotted up the short driveway to the front door, heart thudding a tattoo on his chest.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Matt took a deep breath before knocking, telling himself he could just calmly tell Mrs. Jillard that he needed to talk to Dave, there would be no problem. His worries were knocked away when Davey opened the door, rubbing his eyes and looking as exhausted as Matt felt. Before he even realized he was moving, he had grabbed Dave by his collar and shoved him back into the house. Davey's eyes flew wide and he tripped, going down on his butt. Matt let go just in time to save himself a fall and towered over the blonde, one red eye hidden by a viel of hair. 

"M-Matt?" Davey spluttered, jumping to his feet. "Hey, are you okay?" He was awake now, but he was more concerned for Matt than indignant or defensive, which made Matt angrier. 

"I need to talk to you," Matt snapped, gritting his teeth to contain his voice. Regardless of his temper, he did not want to drag Dave's mom or little brother into the discussion. Davey cautiously moved around him, shutting and locking the door. He held one hand up as if to calm a wild animal.

"My mom and Aaron eating with my dad," he replied slowly, gesturing to the apparently empty house. "Is everything okay? Did your dad do something stupid again?" 

Matt laughed, sounding half-crazed. "My dad had nothing to do with it!" he spat, stepping forward. Davey did not cringe back, but his eyes tightened, and Matt knew, from long years of roughing and fighting, that the blonde was ready to strike back if he needed to. "I suppose you knew about Chris's little  _deal_ all along. Hey, if you want out, fine by me, just don't fucking send him to my house to cut you out!" Matt's hands were shaking and his vision had narrowed down to frame his friend's face. His ears were ringing and he felt slightly sick, as he always did when he yelled at Davey. It was like fighting his second half, his partner in crime.

"Matt, what are you talking about?" Dave said carefully, keeping his voice calm and that one hand up. "I knew Chris wanted to cut me out, because he liked you. Is that what this is about? I told you this before we got started, didn't I?"

"He has a girlfriend!" Davey's eyes widened even more and he blinked rapidly. Matt began pacing like a caged beast. "He was using us as sex friends and he wanted you out because it was  _inconvienient_ for him! Maybe you thought I'd be okay with something like that, but sorry! I don't like being the little dish on the side. I thought you, of all people would understand that, after being played off as your secret boyfriend! I get that it was implied that we were just sex friends or some open, empty relationship, but I thought there was a reason! I thought we were going to be something!" Matt stopped, glaring and out of breath. Davey hadn't moved, frozen. 

"Matt, I didn't know," Davey murmured, unfreezing and stepping forward. "He told me that I could leave when I felt it was right and there would be no strings attached. I didn't know he meant it like that."

"Why didn't you know?!" Matt exploded, face beet-red. "How could you not know? You  _saw_ how I was and you didn't say a thing to me! You let everything go on as it was! Sirella and Bridgette won't even talk to me, because I tried to vent to them and they found out I'd been hawking Chris's cigarettes and booze-"

Davey's jaw dropped. "It was you," he marvelled, biting his lip. "I thought he was being thick and just lost them-"

"You've run me out of what few friends I had, and Chris had the nerve to tell me to cut you out!"

"Look, I'll  _talk_ to Sir and Bridgette, I'm sure they're just miffed or jealous or some-"

Matt slashed viciously at the air in front of his friend. "Don't play this off as some fucking joke, Dave! I thought there was something wrong with me because I was uneasy about a relationship like that! Well, ha-ha, joke's on me, it was supposed to be fucked up and wrong all along!" Matt's hands found his hair and knotted there, like frantic bats.

"Matt, calm down, its fine." Davey's other hand joined the first, waving downwards as if to tamp down the fire in Matt's temper. "We'll just tell the dick we're done, and it'll be--"

"Its not fine!" Matt felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes. "Now I'm addicted to cigarettes and I can't stop stealing from my dad's f-fucking liquor cabinet and all I want to do is guh-go back to Chris's room so I don't hu-have to think about any of this!" Matt fell to his knees on the doormat, weeping. The back of his mind was screaming to stop, to man up and quit sobbing like a girl, but he was tired and stressed to the point of breaking. And he wanted a cigarette. Maybe a drink too. He knelt there and cried while his friend cautiously bent down and put a tentative arm around his shoulders.

"Matt, I swear I didn't know what he was doing," the blonde muttered, voice low and fierce. "I wanted to believe you when you said everything was fine, I know I should have known you weren't telling the truth, but I was overwhelmed. It's not an excuse, but I thought you couldn't really be stealing from Chris and running out for that reason, I swear I didn't even think of it. You're totally right. I should have known, and I'm sorry. Christ, I'm sorry, would you calm the fuck down already? It's okay." Davey's tone never left from calm and soothing, even with the expletives thrown in. He sighed and patted Matt's head like he was an angsty pet. "C'mon, man, just fuck that guy, we don't need him and we don't hafta go back over there. Well, don't literally fuck him, that'd be kind of counterproductive at this point." Matt gave a watery chuckle, scrubbing at his face. "It's alright, you didn't lose your virginity to him or anything, and we didn't leave any clothes over there." Matt laughed again, more out of humor than scorn this time. Without any second thought, he found himself believing every word Davey said; it was more than faith in an old friend at that point. After sort of losing Sirella and Bridgette, he thought he would have a hard time trusting Dave. But as soon as the words left Davey's mouth, accompanied by the same old exasperated comforts, he trusted that everything was true. 

"You realize if you're lying to me, I'll cut you." Matt sniffled, hugging himself and wiping his cheeks. Dave sighed and rolled his eyes, mostly in relief that the waterworks had ceased,

"I know, and I'll fall into hell, bleeding and crying with eternal guilt over making my bestie pee himself with rage and princessly indignation." Dave held out an arm dramatically. The insult thrown by Chris made Matt laugh harder, again out of exaustion and stress. Without thought, he slumped against his friend tiredly, not caring when Davey stiffened against his side. "Dude, I thought we kind of banned this-"

"I'm tired." Matt snapped, dismissing the little alarm in his head that said ' no homo with Dave '. He glowered at the blonde with one eye. "'Sides, I think that went null and void when you two stuck me like a roast pig." 

"That doesn't count," Dave chided, settling down against the door. "That was strictly in the interest of marrying you off to some rich bastard."

"Doesn't that make you my mother? You can't possibly be my father, you're too poor."

"Exactly. It was like a mother-daughter bonding experience."

"You're fucked up, you know that?"

"Same to you, asswipe."

The two of them sat against Davey's front door for nearly an hour, throwing insults and mocking jests back and forth with a familiarity that Matt had found he'd missed sorely in the weeks previous. His anger, white-hot not ten minutes ago, had fizzled out, a tiny bonfire left in the rain. He had gotten irrationally angry at the wrong person and he regretted it. Although, part of him did not, if only because it had brought him to Davey's house when he needed his best friend most.


	5. Chapter 5

Matt walked home as the sun leveled out behind him, fingering the pack of gum in his pocket, hair hanging in his face. He felt drained, even more so than he had that morning. He had left Davey's house with a promise that he would call if things got bad later and the gum, a try-to-quit present from the blonde. They both knew it wouldn't be that easy, but that didn't matter. Matt felt as if a huge weight had lifted from his shoulders, despite his anger at both Chris Sevoy and Davey's and his own lack of knowledge. He no longer had to worry about his mental safety, for the most part, and he knew that without being able to sneak Chris's cigarettes, quitting would be easier. He would never work up the audacity to go out and buy his own, especially not if Bridgette or Sirella would ever catch him at it. 

He got home and microwaved himself an early dinner. He and Davey had sat on the floor for several hours, talking and dozing off intermittantly. As he ate, he realized that that kind of behavior was indeed on their list of no-no's. After failing at being an actual couple, they had set up a series of fallbacks and rules to keep anything awkward from parting their friendship. Cuddling and feelings-sharing was up top on that list. Guiltily, he finished the soggy pasta and threw the box in the trash, gathering his phone and headphones. Absently plugging his iPod into the computer between his and his father's rooms, he collapsed onto his bed, staring at his cell screen for a few minutes before hitting the call button and putting it to his ear. It rang for a while and Matt's heart sank. Sirella never missed a call. She was one of those girls who kept their phones in their bras at all times, even in gym class and at home, so that she got every call, text, and internet notification at all times of the day. The only times she missed was in the shower. It finally clicked and he heard her sigh.

"Matt." she said shortly. He could imagine her crossing her arms, straight brown hair pushed back off her face in her annoyance. 

"Sir, I need to talk to you," Matt replied quickly, hoping to forstall the predicted hang-up. "It's about that friend I told you about, um-"

"Matt, Dave told me everything," she interrupted. She sounded annoyed still, but amused as well. "He called me like fifteen minutes ago. Said something about me being a bitch and a shithead of a friend for turning my back on you in your time of need. I told him he was a dumb fag and he needed to find cooler men to fuck."

Matt rolled his eyes and sighed. "That wasn't what I wanted to say, though." He pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers, cursing Davey for being such a nosy prick. "I wanted to-"

"He's right, you know." she cut him off once again, barely noticing that he spoke. She liked doing that, cutting you off but calming you down at the same time. "I want to apologize. Just because I don't approve of your nasty habits doesn't mean I can flip you off and tell you you're a loser. That isn't fair and you would never do that to me." Matt closed his mouth slowly. He hadn't been expecting that. Sirella was stubborn and would fight tooth and nail to get others to submit and say they were wrong. 

"I want to apologize too," Matt said cautiously. "I threw my problems on you and I shouldn't have um... picked up 'nasty habits'." He tried not to imitate her flippant drawl, but he failed and he almost heard her eyes go wide with anger, a sweet smile baring her teeth.

"Yes, nasty habits." she replied through gritted teeth. Matt grinned in spite of himself. 

"At the same time..." he trailed off in response, unsure if he wanted to continue. "You know its not going to be a quick stop for me, right?" There was a pause and Matt bit down on his lip ring.

"I know." she said simply, all anger, feigned and real, gone. She sighed and switched her phone to her other ear in a rustle of hair and cloth. "Look, Matt, its fine to drink and smoke. I mean, we're graduating next year, you're free to live it up. I'm not a prude, I know that. Just don't get drunk and come crying on me when you feel icky because Chris Seafood convinced you and your gay blondie to let him feel you two up. I have standards, you know."

"I wasn't drunk and he's not _my_ blonde," Matt protested, sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck. "A little woozy from the cigarettes and having my brains screw-"

"Stop." Sirella moaned, cursing. "I don't want to imagine any of that. None. You're forgiven, we're friends, go call that other bitch and be done with me." Matt laughed and hung up, rubbing his phone fondly. As much as he loved Sirella, she could be close-minded and harsh unless you gave her time to realize she was wrong (although she did her best to turn that around and make herself right every time). He tried calling Bridgette, the other bitch as it was so eloquently put, but got an autorespond text that said "With Garrett, gtfo". That was her way of saying, "We're screwing around, so stop calling". He shut his phone and closed his eyes, turning the phone volume up for when she called back. She would; both she and Sirella were connected to their phones more than their body parts at times. He let his eyes slide shut and he wriggled back into his blankets, curling up into a ball.

He slept deeply. Dreams of Davey swam around in his head, in which both of them were always fully dressed. Memories drifted through - getting lost in a corn maze when they were seven, trampling their bullies in elementary school, Mrs. Jillard acting as his mom for their school's Mother's Day celebration in kindergarten. Mr. Andarin, the ever-occupied surgeon, had opted out of showing up for Father's Day as well. Davey's face when he was getting his eyebrow pierced, the face he made when some person in school pissed him off and he couldn't do anything about it, the way his glasses always marked him as the cool kid.

Matt's cell rang shrilly and he almost leapt out of bed, gasping and sweating. His eyes stared into his darkened bedroom blindly. He hadn't shaken off the dream-funk and at first he didn't know where he was. When he realized what was going on, he ran a hand throug his hair and answered the phone, once again not checking the caller I.D.

"Did I wake you?" Davey's voice sent a shiver down Matt's spine. The dream had been so vivid, he almost believed he had traveled back in time to see it. Closing his eyes and wiping at his damp face, Matt shook his head.

"Yeah, no, its good," he mumbled. _What in the world had_ that _been?_ He couldn't remember the last time he dreamed anything, let alone anything as creepy as a flower-framed walk down Davey Lane. "Whu'sup?"

"I wanted to make sure you got back okay and see if you needed anything," Davey sounded hesitant, cautious. "Y'know, 'cause all I gave you was gum, and your dad's liquor stash is stacked fifteen miles high and all. You made me all guilty for no reason and now I need closure." Matt couldn't help but smile.

"I'm fine. I ate,  and I want to sleep until next week, but thank you for inquiring, Mother Dearest." Matt drawled, flopping onto his back with a sigh. The tiny alarms were still blaring in the back of his mind as they both tried to pass their words off as jokes.

"That's dandy, you little shit." Davey chirped back. "Make sure you keep your dick in your pants and out of the neighbor's hose." Matt stifled a laugh with some difficulty.

"You went overboard with Sirella, Mom." Matt interjected, trying to be serious. "I'd be careful or she'll cut  _your_ dick off."

There was a short pause, and when he spoke, Dave sounded angry, dark. "She deserved it," he replied stubbornly. "She acted like a shitty friend. Screw her pride, she needs to knock that self-righteous shit off." Matt silently agreed (to an extent).

"Still," he pushed, yawning. "Don't mock her or piss her off."

"Yeah, yeah." There were sounds of talking on the other end. "Oh, my mom says hey."

"Tell her I said yo," Matt perked up slightly. Davey often jibed that Matt had a thing for the mother, but Matt could barely laugh at them. His own mother had died when he was young, so having another woman treat him like one of her own, even if it was out of pity, was something he didn't take lightly. She had taken care of Davey, Matt and Aaron  more than Matt's dad or her own husband had put together over the years and he respected her for it.

"Anyway, call me if you start hallucinating and trying to claw your skin off," Dave said lightly, a muffled curse and distant threats from Mrs. Jillard sounding off in the background as Dave was most likely swatted with a newspaper.

"Aye aye, Captain Cool Kid." Matt hung up without waitng for the usual response. It was something they had done talking on their fmaily's house phones when they were little. Davey was Captain Cool and Matt was known as Lieutenant Loser. He had never tried to work himself up higher in rank, for as a child, Matt had been proud to be included in anything at all, even if it meant being degraded. Besides, any other kid who overheard and made fun of Matt got pummeled by a blonde fist of fury. He didn't want to hear the reply tonight, however. Tossing his phone aside, Matt stared at his cieling. Where had that fevered dream of happy-Davey faces come from? It was  long time before he fell back asleep, the little alarms in his head going off every time he started to drift. That was bad territory and Matt knew better than to go there. 

Didn't he?


	6. Chapter 6

 

Matt heard the garage door open from the reaches of a light slumber and stirred, glancing fuzzily at his clock. It was nearly two in the morning, which meant Michael Andarin was going to be home all of the next day, catching up on sleep. With the knowledge that Michael was not going to check in on him in mind, Matt sat up, rubbing his face. He hadn’t slept well, but he felt refreshed anyway. He stood and staggered to his door, opening it just in time to hear his father’s car keys jingle onto the countertop as he unloaded his pockets. Matt leaned sleepily against his door frame, waiting until Michael was at the top of the stairs. He waved and winced when Michael flicked the lights on.

“What are you doing awake?” he said cautiously. Matt hid a smirk.

“Heard you come in,” Matt yawned, shrugging. Little did his father know that Matt awakened every time the surgeon came and left the house, not out of concern or hatred, but simple curiosity. That was how they lived; after Matt’s mother died, Michael had left the infant with many babysitters and Samantha Jillard so that he could go back to work. Matt never resented him for it, and Michael never gave Matt any lectures on being out late or drinking, as long as he didn’t get into trouble. They lived as a lion and a hyena would, side by side, never truly crossing paths, but aware of each other in a wary, inquisitive way.

Michael fidgeted, coat in one hand. “I’m off tomorrow,” he offered, attempting a smile. Matt nodded and his father put his hand in his pocket. “I uh, I was going to go visit your mother, if you wanted to come along.” Matt pondered this. His father had actually known Chelsea Andarin; Matt had not. He loved the woman who brought him into the world, but he did not enjoy their graveside visits. For one thing, it was an empty grave. Chelsea’s ashes were floating in the atmosphere by now and standing over empty dirt felt pointless to Matt. Not to mention Michael got emotional and a little funny most times.

“I think I’ll skip this one,” Matt said slowly, talking in the soft, understanding-teenager tone he used with his family. “Give you some private time, you know.” Michael nodded, scratching his stubbly chin.

“In that case, I might go out with a few of my colleagues after,” Michael spoke more to himself, confirming his own schedule and plans in his head. “I’ll be back for dinner, if you want to go anywhere.” Matt smiled, a little forcefully.

“Sounds good,” he replied, biting his lip ring. Matt was old enough and curious enough to know that by colleagues, Michael meant a mysterious woman named Arlene whom he worked with. Matt tried not to be stiff or bitter about his old man seeing another person other than his ex-wife, but sometimes, it was weird and a little difficult to fake.

“I’ll uh, say good night then,” Michael finished awkwardly, scratching the back of his head and side stepping towards his room. Matt nodded and ducked into his own.  He knew, as he closed his door, that they would not go out to dinner, that Michael would give him forty dollars and the car keys so that he could have a few drinks and pass out on the couch. Matt understood that and he returned to his bed, shaking his head and smiling gently. There would never be any real connecting between them, it seemed.

****

Matt was sitting down to a late breakfast/brunch, one cigarette in his hand, when he heard the windows at the front of the house rattling. Silently putting down his fork and tucking the cigarette into the corner of his mouth, he grabbed his butter knife and crept towards the front of the house cautiously. He knew it was probably Davey or his aunt or uncle, but he was very careful when Michael wasn’t home. He inhaled too strongly and his head whirled as he coughed. He traded the knife in his right hand for the cigarette, waving a hand in front of his watering eyes as smoke burned his throat and lungs. A skinny, jean-clad leg slipping into the window and Matt retreated, coughing and wincing, to put the knife back.

“Tada!” Davey crowed, shutting the window. Matt sat back down to his food, snuffing out the cigarette in an greasy egg that he was not going to touch. Davey prowled into the kitchen, motioning upstairs at the bedrooms above. Matt kicked out a chair and shook his head.

“Papa-bear left an hour ago,” Matt announced, flicking the butt into the sink.

“Won’t he smell that when he comes back?” Davey waved a hand in the air, stirring the stagnant smoke that hung there, bluish in the sunlight.

Matt shrugged, forking a sausage into his mouth. “If I air it out, its fine.” he thought about that as he chewed, then swallowed. “In fact, he might be too giddy to even realize what the smell is.” Davey raised an eyebrow, piercing glittering as he sank into one of the chairs.

“Giddy? Did you just use that out loud in a sentence?” he sniggered. Matt rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, he’s going to hang with his new girlfriend.” Matt kept most of the bitterness out of his voice. Dave winked knowingly all the same.

“And little Matty-kins will be all lonesome with his Daddy’s divided attentions,” he mourned, flipping his hair over his face, revealing the shaved half of his head. Matt catapulted the last piece of sausage at him and got up to put his dishes in the wash. “Speaking of, how goes the drunken, smoke-filled plight of the young heroine?” Matt wanted to slap his hand against his forehead. Davey was known for being extravagant in his words. English was the only subject he was good at in school, but Matt would be damned if the blonde wasn’t the best in their year.

“You tell me,” Matt sighed, opening two windows to let in a gentle, spring breeze. Matt was expecting some joke as a retort, but there was silence until he turned around. Davey was studying him pityingly, although he tried to hide it when they met eyes.

“You know you should always share with your bestie,” Davey changed that sympathetic look into a sly, winning grin before Matt could even affirm that the sympathy had been there. He rolled his eyes dramatically towards Michael Andarin’s extensive liquor cabinet. Everything was in there, from gin and vodka to whiskey, scotch, wine, a few twenty-four cardboard boxes of beer, and wine coolers. Matt considered his friend for a moment.

“You know,” he chuckled, pushing off the counter. “We haven’t drank together in a while.” Part of him wanted to hold back, remembering the happy Davey face dream montage, but this was his best friend. If he couldn’t enjoy a drink or five with Dave, then who could he enjoy it with? Davey leapt up and rubbed his hands together excitedly.

“Well, Mister, let’s get down to it,” he said cheerily. Matt locked all of the windows and the garage while Davey pulled down the blinds and locked the front door. As illegal as drinking at their age was, they were two of few that were actually careful about concealing themselves. Nobody had caught them at it yet, but they were still cautious. Matt broke out a new bottle of Skyy vodka and the fizzy mixers that he had hidden in the back of the cabinet a while back. With two short glasses, they retreated into Matt’s spotlessly clean room and settled down on the carpet. Matt’s phone lie next to them, high on volume to keep Michael Andarin in check. Davey grinned at Matt.

“Let’s get on it,” he muttered, leaning back on one hand comfortably. Matt couldn’t keep a matching grin off his face as he poured.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after some self-debating, i've decided to not abandon this work xD updates shall continue!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .:~:.Warning <3.:~:.  
> Lemons! NSFW! Pron-o-graphic! Expleeceet! Nudity! Young boys going at it!  
> Its a smutty chapter, I warned you.

Matt drained his cup with a grimace, dissolving in giggles when he saw Davey trying to open the bottle for another round. He laughed harder when he saw the cap, lying next to his friend’s foot rather than on the bottle.

“I think this is the signal that we need to think about stopping,” Davey slurred, pointing at the open bottle. Matt grabbed at the cap and missed, fingers scraping on the carpet.

“Put the lid on, then, ass wipe,” Matt flopped over on his side, still chuckling. With some difficulty, Davey capped the half-empty bottle and, as if in a silent film, conspicuously hid it behind Matt’s dresser. They both laughed and Davey collapsed next to Matt, blonde hair falling across one eye.

“This was a good idea,” Davey murmured when they both stopped giggling. Matt’s head was buzzing delightfully, and his fingers and arms felt numb, tingly. His vision was blurry, but he wasn’t worried. It would be hours before Michael came home, and Davey’s mom wouldn’t mind if Dave spent the night. Matt’s previous apprehension about opening up to his friend were gone, lost in a haze of booze and fun.

“I’m glad its all over,” Matt hiccuped, smiling lazily at his ceiling. “I was so freaked out about Chris and his um, dick. And things. It was a worry problem, really.” Matt realized something about what he had said wasn’t right, but he didn’t know how to fix it.

“I should have protected you better,” Davey sighed. Matt glanced at him, but his eyes were closed, hands on his chest. “I was supposed to keep your purrity safe an’ I let that jack-off convince me he loved ya’.” He said purity the way a southern man would compliment a nice-looking girl. Matt looked down at his friend, touched.

“You did your best,” Matt bumbled dumbly, eyes raking his friend’s face. Davey’s eyes opened, and red stared into blue, spiralling in both of their states of tipsy.

“I shh’d’ve just tol’ you when I had the chance,” Davey whispered, gazing up at Matt. Matt tried to inhale, but either by his surprise or a mix of that and the soporific alcohol, he couldn’t, not immediately. He let his eyelids flutter shut and he leaned down, still lying propped up on one elbow, and let his open lips brush Davey’s. He heard a shaking, harsh sigh and then they were on each other, frantic. Davey shot his arm around Matt’s neck, pulling him down. Matt didn’t need much prompting; he dropped to Davey’s mouth and forced it wide, kissing him fiercely. Davey snaked one leg around Matt’s back and Matt tangled his hand into the blonde’s hair, growling low in his throat. Matt’s free hand gripped the front of Davey’s shirt and released, only to move lower and wrinkle the fabric elsewhere. Davey reached up into his shirt and Matt gasped against the blonde’s mouth, pushing his thigh into Davey’s crotch.

All thought was gone in a swirl of alcohol and lust. Matt did not hear the little warning siren in his head as he pressed down on Davey, almost flinching back when he felt the other’s member against his own through their jeans. He moved tentatively against Davey, almost embarrassed at his own eagerness. With a low, snarling laugh, Davey reared up and tackled him over, locking Matt’s arms above his head and straddling him much more confidently. Matt panted and let the other yank his shirt off, reaching up and tugging off the blonde’s. Their bare skin, half numbed, half ultra-sensitive, felt wonderful together. Dave circled his tongue around Matt’s ear, simultaneously grinding into Matt’s crotch with his own, forcing a moan out of the black-haired teen. Matt tried to reciprocate, but Davey kept Matt’s hips low, his hands trapped still. He squirmed delightedly as the blonde moved his mouth down, nibbling on a pale collarbone, latching onto a nipple to bite gently. Matt moved his lower body as much as he could, unable to catch a breath that did not come out as a moan.

There was something different that he had never felt when it had been the three of them. He was used to being dominated, but never before had he wanted to return every sensation as much as he did now. As he gasped, one thought held in his mind - Make Davey squeal. His eyes slipped shut as Davey undid the button and zipper to his jeans, scraping his teeth along Matt’s exposed hip bone as the jeans were tugged away. With less friction, Matt was able to escape, attacking Davey’s pants so that he could maintain a semblance of control. Davey reclined back on his heels, allowing Matt to suckle on his chest as he shifted the pants down. He glanced up at his friend and saw pure adoration in those baby blues.  Encouraged, he ran out his tongue and started in on Davey’s dick energetically.

He licked up and down the shaft with the tip of his tongue, earning shivers from the blonde that delighted Matt. He prodded the tip, laughing quietly when Davey growled wordlessly and threaded his fingers into Matt’s hair, gripping firmly. Matt wrapped his lips around Davey’s member, swallowing and sucking with familiarity. To him, this was much easier when another was not playing with him from behind. As he worked, Davey’s breath came shorter, his grip shakier and more out of desperation than need. It wasn’t long before Davey’s body curled around Matt’s head, flesh around his dick tightening. Matt swallowed the sudden hot rush of fluid, but some escaped and ran down his chin, dripping onto Davey’s knee. Matt started to sit up and clean himself, but Davey seized his head in both hands and yanked him upwards, clearing Matt’s chin with one lick before mashing his mouth against Matt’s, tasting his own cum.

Matt was happy to share and he got so lost in their lustful, frantic kisses that he didn’t notice the repositioning until Davey rubbed his slick member against Matt’s, body poised above. Matt gasped at the feeling and tried to reconfigure, but Davey was having none of it. He pushed one of Matt’s legs up, holding it with one shoulder. In one hand, he lightly squeezed Matt’s shaft, and with the other, ran a finger silkily down Matt’s ass. The combined attack caused Matt to arch his back, a groan surprised out of him. Davey had Matt pinned, muffling his moans with his mouth and grinding along Matt’s hip as he loosened Matt up. After a minute or two, Matt knew he couldn’t stand it any longer. He wrapped one arm around Davey’s neck, breaking their kiss.

“Its fine, go,” he panted, saliva running down his cheek from his lips. Davey opened his eyes questioningly, polite even in the heat of the moment. Matt nodded, gripping his friend’s arm. “Go, Davey-” his name sent the blonde into a frenzy and Davey repositioned, harshly locking Matt’s arms again as he put the tip of his member at the opening of Matt’s relaxed ass. Slowly, with a few gasps and grimaces of pain from Matt, Davey was in. Matt lay flat on the carpet, twitching and breathing heavily. Their gazes met for half a second before Davey moved, and they both squeezed their eyes shut after that, twin moans of pleasure escaping them.  Davey started slow, letting Matt squirm as he accustomed himself to the mix of tight pain and the pleasure of the friction. With another breathless urging from the red-eyed teen, they sped up, growing more and more restless and passionate rather than taking their time to enjoy it.

Davey leaned forward, biting Matt’s shoulder as he slowed suddenly, pulling out almost all the way. Matt gripped his arm, a slient oh slipping out of him. Davey changed the angle of his body slightly and slid back in. This time, he brushed something inside Matt and Matt cried out, fingers digging into Davey’s muscles. He heard a faint, proud laugh, and the thrusting recommenced, only along this new channel that Matt had never felt before. Every motion was amplified from before, and Matt thrashed and clutched at the blonde, in a world of rapture. It wasn’t long before he felt Davey stiffening inside of him, close to exactly when Matt was coming close. He groaned and raked his short nails down Davey’s sides, who rammed into him harder as they both came. Matt was shocked to hear a high, almost girlish whine leaving him as his body shuddered uncontrollably. Davey growled deep in his throat in his pleasure, pulling out. Matt could feel the cum inside, leaking out thickly. Matt hugged Davey close, allowing the blonde to relax on top of him as he gave him one last calm kiss, lips closed and soft . They were both out of breath and Matt was suddenly exhausted.

His lust had reached a new high and he was tired out by it. Satisfied, he lay his head back on the carpet, one hand finding Dave’s and letting their fingers intertwine. Using his foot, Davey tugged a blanket off Matt’s bed and weakly draped it over their bodies, settling his head into Matt’s shoulder. No warning bells or feelings of guilty regret parted them as they slipped into a light, thoughtless doze, brought upon by their satisfaction and the alcohol.


	8. Chapter 8

Matt woke to the sound of the door opening and loud, raucous laughter. His eyes flashed open in the dark, very much aware of the heat next to him and the stickiness between his legs. Davey was cradling him, he noticed, and he froze, slightly confused. He knew they had gotten drunk and he knew something had happened, but the details were fuzzy. It was pitch black outside and from the floor, Matt could not see his clock. He stayed perfectly still as he listened to the sounds of his father and his ‘colleague’ stumbling up the stairs. Matt twitched and cowered when Michael knocked on the door.

“Matt, Matt, you home?” he called, slurring almost as bad as Davey had been. Matt covered Davey’s mouth as he woke, disturbed by Matt’s fearful tensing. Davey tried to move away and Matt punched him, unable to communicate in the dark. “Matt? Oh, Matt? Wakey up, are you here?” Matt’s heart was thudding, and he could feel Davey slowing stiffening, his pulse speeding along with Matt’s. Neither of them were very secretive with their tendencies around their friends, but with their families, it was a different story. Matt did not want his drunken father to walk in on him and his best friend, naked and dirty.

“I guess he’s not in?” a cool female voice spoke from farther away. “Come on, the house is empty.” She giggled and the sounds of their talking faded to a buzz from the other side of the house. Davey removed Matt’s shaking fingers and sat up, rubbing his head and groaning quietly.

“What’s going on?” he mumbled, patting at his bare chest. “My clothes...”

“Whisper,” Matt hissed, extracting himself from the blanket and crab-walking away. He didn’t know how he felt, waking up with a nasty head ache naked next to his friend. He didn’t know how Dave would respond either, so he grabbed his boxers and tugged them on furtively.

“What.. its three in the morning,” Davey murmured, not moving. “Who’s with your dad?”

“His girlfriend, I guess,” Matt snapped, trying to calm his nerves. The adults were most likely too preoccupied to hear them, but that was not a comforting thought. With the weirdness in the room already, he didn’t want the sounds coming from his father’s room making it any worse.

“What happened...” There were rustling noises. “Did you see my underwear? Its dark.”

“I know, I don’t want to turn the light on,” Matt whispered hastily, feeling around. His fingers lighted on jeans, a tee shirt, and finally a softer, slightly less-familiar cloth. He tossed it and knew by the muffled grunt that it hit Davey in the face.

“Thanks,” he muttered, fumbling into them. “Um... So...” They both sat in the dark motionless for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Matt said humbly, ducking his head. “I didn’t mean to... I didn’t really know what happened.. or why, but I’m sorry, you can just forget about it.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Davey replied, sounding angry or frustrated. “I never blamed you for anything, did I? I barely remember what happened, although I guess its pretty obvious...” He trailed off. “I could apologize too. We had our agreement.”

“That we broke, repeatedly,” Matt blurted, growing defensive. “I attacked you and I overstepped myself. Just take my apology and forget about it already.

“Who said I want to forget it?” Davey’s voice was quiet, silkily aggressive. “Dare you assume I want to just pretend it didn’t happen? This isn’t something you just decide to ignore. I’m not sorry for anything I did or said, unless it truly bothers you. And even if it did, I’m not the one who wants to forget.” Matt gawked at him in the dark.

“I.. I didn’t mean..” he coughed a quiet laugh and scratched his head in wonder. “I wasn’t implying that you should, I just thought it was what you would have wanted.”

Davey scoffed. “I thought I was getting really obvious when I started getting protective around you near Chris. He caught on, I’m sure. I’m sorry if you feel that it was attacking, what we did, but I’m not really regretting anything except getting drunk.” Matt opened and closed his mouth.

“Are you saying..” he began, forcing himself to laugh. “You can’t be serious-”

“Don’t play it off as a joke, Matt,” Davey snapped. “Either tell me no or invite me to go to sleep. I can’t leave with your dad right there and I’m not sleeping on the floor if I don’t have to.” Matt could hear Dave scratching the buzzed side of his head. “I didn’t mean to push you to a decision like this. Hey, the topic never even had to come up.. But I guess I butchered that plan.” Matt frowned concernedly at where he thought Davey’s face was.

“I wouldn’t...” Matt paused. He didn’t know exactly how he felt, but he knew he didn’t want to come out and say no. They wouldn't be able to go back to the way they were, he knew. Despite going with Chris previously, this time felt different, more meaningful. They hadn’t done it to appease a college kid or because it was fun. It had felt serious, desperate (or what Matt could remember of it). And he was damned if it didn’t sound like Davey had been holding back the entire time.

“I wouldn’t say no to you,” Matt murmured, raising one hand and letting it fall silently. “I didn’t know, I never even guessed... I was so wrapped up in myself-”

“Don’t pity me, you dork,” Davey cut him off again, sounding more amused than angry now. “I knew we’d never work out, it wasn’t like some desperate fight for self-control. But its come to this, so...” Matt heard him scratching his head again. “I don’t know, just make a fucking decision.”

“Well...” Matt laughed bitterly, sitting more comfortably, shoulders tensed. “I’m not going to say no to you and send you out of my house, that was never my intention... But, Davey, every time we try something, it... it falls apart... and I don’t want to lose you.” Matt’s voice cracked a little and he bit his lip ring, exhaling through his nose in frustration of his own weakness.

There was a short pause before Davey replied. “I don’t know if I can go back to friends after this,” the blonde said quietly, voice shaking. “I was a lot less drunk than you knew, and I remember everything.”

“But if it doesn’t... If we can’t...” Matt almost wrung his hands like a worried old lady. He stopped himself, took a deep breath, and calmed himself as much as he could.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this,” Davey said reluctantly. “I’d had no idea that you’d act that way, even drunk.”

“I dreamt about you, too.” Matt murmured, face heating. It was shameful to admit that, but he didn’t know what else to say. “It was only once.” There was silence in the room, broken only by the muffled sounds of Michael and his girl at the other end of the house banging on something, possibly a wall. The rhythm of the noise was discomfiting in its regularity and Matt wished he could have said something to fend his father off, away from the house, but there hadn’t been another way. He was pretty sure Davey was waiting for him, done with excuses for the time being, and Matt fetched a sigh heavy enough to empty his lungs.

“Can we...” he drew his knees up to his chest, covering his head with one arm. He was never good with talking to people, especially boys, and he’d never asked anyone out or said anything remotely like that before, and his anxiety was clear in his tone. “Can we start slow? Or something?” Matt heard Davey chuckle and move closer.

**“I can deal with that.” the blonde grabbed one of Matt’s arms firmly. “But don’t be angry with me if I don’t hold back either.” Matt nodded before realizing Davey couldn’t see him, but it didn’t seem to matter what answer he gave. “Come on, my head hurts and we have school tomorrow.” Unsteady and blind, they staggered for Matt’s bed, collapsing on it and crawling under the remaining lone blanket. Matt immediately panicked and wondered if they were supposed to cuddle or something, but Davey turned over and pressed his back into Matt’s arm, sighing and relaxing. Matt stayed frozen before carefully rolling over himself, the backs of his hands lightly touching Davey’s spine. Sleep came easier than he could have imagined, and his mind was thankfully uninterrupted by discernable dreams.**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading =3 Leave a comment, criticism is more than welcome!  
> To be continued~!


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